


Breaking and Entering

by gwydionx



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics), The Flash (TV 2014), Under the Red Hood
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-24
Updated: 2016-08-26
Packaged: 2018-08-10 20:50:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7860649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gwydionx/pseuds/gwydionx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Barry stood in the doorway of Bruce Wayne’s study, staring straight at the one person he least expected to see. Leonard Snart—Captain Cold—stared back at him, devilish look in his eye and an altogether too satisfied smirk on his face. “Something the matter, Barry?”</i>
</p><p>Len pulls a heist at Wayne Manor. Barry intervenes. Or... tries to. </p><p>Established ColdFlash and Justice League. Two-part drabble.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Seeing Eye To Eye](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5236670) by [TheFightingBull](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheFightingBull/pseuds/TheFightingBull). 



“Are you kidding me?!”

Barry stood in the doorway of Bruce Wayne’s study, staring straight at the one person he least expected to see. Leonard Snart—Captain Cold—stared back at him, devilish look in his eye and an altogether too-satisfied smirk on his face. “Something the matter, Barry?”

Barry couldn’t believe it. He couldn’t believe the gall of the man—there were over a hundred police officers downstairs, all dressed to nines for a national-level charity gala. The gala hosted by _Bruce Wayne._ At Wayne Manor. The securest place on _Earth_. And here was Len, standing completely unperturbed in the freaking _Dark Knight_ ’s study. 

Not that the other man knew that—he couldn’t know that. Only the senior League knew that. “Do you have any idea how bad this is?” Barry hissed. He stepped forward into the room—refusing to acknowledge how sexy the man looked in a tux—to drop his voice. “There are a hundred badges downstairs, and security, and—”

“An alarm system that’s been disabled, motion sensors taken offline, _pressure_ sensors rewired, and security cameras already put on loop using a Theta-grade virus it would take Miss Smoak herself minimum three-hundred-eighty seconds to dismantle,” Len said evenly. He arched an eyebrow, and tapped his watch. “The only one putting me in danger is you, Scarlet.”

Flustered, Barry tried not to contemplate how Len would get his hands on a program like that. “I’m getting you out of here. You can’t _be_ here, you can’t—”

“Chill,” Len smiled. His eyes darted over Barry’s shoulder, to the left. “I came by invitation.”

Barry turned to follow his line of sight. And nearly jumped from his skin. A thug stood behind him. A very large thug, wearing black leather and boots and a Glock and a red domino mask and—

“Jason?!”

The big man brushed past him with a surly expression. “It's Red Hood now, zippy.”

Behind him on the wall, the face of the grandfather clock swung closed, and before Barry could question that, Cold’s voice cut the room.

“Sixty two seconds. Got what you need?”

Jason gave a brusk nod as he moved toward the window. He held something in his hand—a black case, and Barry only hesitated a split-second before speed-force rushed through him and he charged the younger man. Or tried to, because the tell-tale whine of the cold-gun had already powered up and his feet skidded across a plane of ice. He slipped, still speeding, and wind-milled to try and catch his balance and then slowed because he wasn’t skidding anymore, because a wicked bite of ice blasted up his shins.

Damn it, how had Len drawn that quick? It didn’t matter. His lower legs were encased in ice, and he was trapped.

Len stood, cold gun tilted back on his shoulder, and smirked.

“Been fun, Scarlet,” he drawled. “But it’s time we were gone.” He turned to Jason. “Forty five seconds.”

Lightning flared in Barry’s eyes. “You’re going to regret this,” he said. And he meant it—he didn’t know how Jason figured into this, but Bruce was going to be _pissed_.

Cold chuckled and walked up to Barry, still frozen on the floor. Without warning he leaned in and— _oh, shit_ —pressed their mouths in a kiss. A long, soft, deep kiss that promised a hundred things Barry shouldn’t be thinking of right now, not with his legs encased in ice and his arch-nemesis boyfriend making off with something from _Batman_ ’s study.

When Len pulled back, his steel eyes gleamed with mischief.

“Are you _serious_ right now?” Barry rasped.

“As a snowstorm.”

Behind Cold, Jason was halfway out the window, shaking his head in dark amusement.

Okay, he’d walked into that one.

A final, predatory smile, and Len turned to follow Jason’s path. Barry watched, literally frozen, as the two thieves disappeared out the window, and were gone.


	2. Chapter 2

“Describe the case again.”

Barry sighed and hung his head, letting his eyes fall closed in frustration. It had been four hours since the Dark Knight found Barry half-frozen to the floor of his study. Bruce had been predictably irate—which meant he’d adopted a permanent scowl and the ‘I’m-going-to-decimate-evil’ Bat-glare, which even after seeing the man out of uniform Barry found intimidating beyond reason.

The only upside of the night was they’d yet to retrieve the lost camera footage. A small mercy, but anything that kept Batman from seeing him snog Captain Cold in his own study was a plus in Barry’s book, even if it did mean they had no idea what the intruders stole. Right now, it was the only thing that kept that Bat-glare from being directed at _him_.

Of course, Bats immediately called in Nightwing. Flash and he had searched the city together while Batman stayed behind to analyze the security virus and taking inventory of the Batcave (where Jason had emerged from, behind the grandfather clock—and wasn’t that just the icing on the cake).

When the search returned nothing, Nightwing and he returned to the Batcave to find Bruce still scowling at the screens, trying to make sense of things.

At Batman’s insistence, Barry repeated: “Black case. Small, about seven-by-five. Thin, like an eighth of an inch thick.” He glanced back up.

“Nothing like that missing from the armory,” Nightwing offered. He leaned against a railing to Barry’s left. “Or from the lab.”

“Maybe some kind of tech?” He didn’t know what kind of tech the Dark Knight housed down here, but if Len needed an alien-grade virus to override it, chances are it would be lethal in the right hands. “It looked small enough. A computer component, or maybe a disk?”

A beat. Batman froze.

A split-second later, the man was on his feet. He tromped past the Flash towards a case of steel drawers on the opposite wall. Nightwing rose to stand in alarm as Batman grabbed the drawer on the top left and yanked it free.

The contents rattled, and Batman stared down into the drawer with a look that would have had Darkseid running for cover. He let out a long-suffering sigh. Barry knew that sigh—it was the one he thought Joe had cornered the market on. Guess not.

At Barry’s side, Nightwing’s voice held a hint of laughter. “He wouldn’t. Would he?”

Batman growled the answer through gritted teeth. “Apparently, he did.”

****

Less than twenty-four hours after their showdown at Wayne Manor, Barry walked into his apartment to find Captain Cold doing a newspaper crossword on his couch, wearing nothing but pajama pants and a white undershirt.

Without a word, Barry dropped his duffle by the door and slumped on the opposite end of the couch. He refused to think about Len’s tattooed arms right now. Or how good the man had looked in that tux. Or how utterly he’d been handed his ass.

“What’s a five letter word for ‘humiliation’?” Len asked casually, pen twirling in hand.

Barry groaned and let his head fall back on the cushion. “Is it too much to ask you _not_ rub this in my face?”

The corners of Len’s mouth twitched in a suppressed smirk. “I told you I had it handled.”

“And I was supposed to take your word for it?” he managed, behind closed eyes. “You’re a thief. And a liar. And you _kissed me_ at a crime scene.”

That, at last, brought the full smirk. “You’d rather I didn’t?”

The warmth in his voice was too much—Barry cracked a grin. A small one, because he hadn’t given up on being indignant just yet. “No. I mean, yes. I mean—it’s fine.” More than fine. And it did help to know it wasn’t a weapon of mass destruction or alien death-ray the two had made off with. He sighed and sat forward, running hands through his hair before giving his boyfriend an incredulous look. “But _Boondock Saints,_ Len? Really?”

Len spun the pen in his fingers, and kept eyes trained on his paper with smug amusement. “Can’t blame a man for his tastes.”

“You used an _alien_ virus to hack the most advanced security system on _Earth_ to steal a DVD,” he blustered. “You team up with the bloodiest vigilante in Gotham and break into a billionaire’s mansion during a _police_ gala, just to steal back a movie Bruce confiscated from Jason when he was _fourteen_.”

Len didn’t even bat an eye, though the corners of his mouth ticked up even more. “Seems that way.”

Barry threw his hands down in frustration. If he hadn’t seen the storage box in person, he never would have believed it. He and Nightwing had held it together pretty well, until Bruce discovered the sticky note the bottom of the bin— _Game on, Old Man._ At that point, Nightwing burst into stitches, and Barry had done his best to avoid eye contact with Batman entirely, since he looked ready to pull out the batarangs and go to town on the nearest viable target.

Barry just shook his head. It was sweet, in its way—he knew next to nothing about Jason, apart from his resurrection. But the fact the man went to such extraordinary lengths to insinuate himself on Wayne Manor spoke volumes about how tied he really was to the place, even now. Maybe that’s why Len had agreed to help him in the first place.

Still… “You really expect me to believe you didn’t steal _anything_ else. A billionaire’s mansion, and all you did was play lookout while Jason took the DVD.”

Len looked up to Barry as he spun the pen in deft fingers. A nice pen, actually—black with gold filigree along the grip and—

“Oh my god,” Barry gasped. “You stole his _pen_?!”

There was no masking it now—Len was laughing. “The man has terrible taste in art. He didn’t leave me much choice.”

“So you stole his office supplies?”

“It’s just a pen, Barry. The man spends millions of dollars a year on Kevlar underwear and fetish gear—he can afford to replace a pen.”

 _Kevlar and fetish…_ Barry’s jaw dropped. “That’s—wait—you knew? That whole time in the study, you knew?”

Len arched a brow. “The billionaire-playboy ruse has been painfully overdone in recent years. Thanks in no small part to your friend in Central City." When Barry just continued to stare: "Of course I knew. How everyone _else_ stays so oblivious is what concerns me.”

Barry leaned back on the couch, completely at a loss. There was nothing for it. “You pulled a heist on the Batman.”

“Mm-hmm.”

“You pulled a heist… on the _Batman_.”

“Careful, sweetheart. You almost sound proud of me.”

Barry looked at him—this brilliant, indescribably smug and aggravating man who stole million-dollar-paintings and baked him chicken parmesan and kissed him like he’d found heaven on earth—and couldn’t help cracking an ear-to-ear smile. “Nope,” he managed. “Not proud. Not even a bit.”

But the truth was written on his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there it is. :) Sorry for not posting more quickly - I had most of the draft last night, but I couldn't get the scene with Batman and Nightwing to quite play out right. Still not totally happy with it, but I think it's as good as it's going to get, now. I've added a couple bonus mini-scenes that didn't make the cut as a final installment, but this ends the official story.
> 
> A hundred thanks goes to [TheFightingBull](http://archiveofourown.org/users/TheFightingBull/pseuds/TheFightingBull) and her story [Seeing Eye to Eye](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5236670/chapters/12078329%22) for inspiring the Boondock Saints DVD heist. I knew I wanted Cold to pull a heist at Wayne Manor, but couldn't settle on a good reason for him to be there. Then Jason came to mind, and it all fell into place.
> 
> Anyway - her stories are amazing, and you should read them all. :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A couple bonus mini-scenes that didn't make the cut, but are fun anyway. :)

**Bonus #1:**

 The night after the heist, Jay gets a text message.

(from Dickie-Bird:) _Next time use the front door, genius._

A huff, and Jason types back: _Giving you shit is way more fun. Better up security, though. Think I may have left my CD collection there, too._

(from Dickie-Bird:) _That a threat?_

He hesitates a minute, then replies:  _A_ _promise. Better lock up the Lucky Charms.  
_

(from Dickie-Bird:) _You leave my Lucky Charms out of this._

(from Dickie-Bird:) _Asshole._

Jason can't help a smirk.

 

**Bonus #2:**

Three days after the heist, Len walks into his safe house—the one he’s not told even Mick and Lisa about—to find a copy of the security footage lodged into his kitchen table with a batarang. He watches it and, sure enough, there’s Wayne’s study, the heist, the kiss, and Jason laughing in the window.

The end of the footage runs, and Batman himself comes on the screen, addressing him directly. “Betray my family, Cold, and this becomes a very different conversation.” The footage cuts out.

Len huffs, then realizes there’s a word missing from that statement: Bruce hadn’t said _again_. It wasn’t threatening retaliation for the break-in. And it couldn’t be a threat about Barry—the Justice League was a team, but an as-yet uncohesive one. They weren’t anything approaching family yet, especially to a man like Wayne. If anything, he’s strangely silent on what the footage revealed.

He watches the figures track the screen—the video had started over, the media player rolling on repeat—and catches something he hadn’t before. As Jason swung his leg over the window, he raised his face to the camera and offered an offhand salute.

 _Family_ , Bruce had said.

Jason.

Len’s estimation of Bruce goes up just a fraction.


End file.
